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How to have a truly happy new year.

For the first time in years, I don’t remember my New Year’s resolution from January. Usually, I write it down in my journal or on a note I stick to my mirror. There’s been many of those dog-eared sticky notes from years past. The year of contentment. Speaking life. We passed pancakes across the breakfast table on January 1st this year. “What do you want from 2018?” I can’t remember my answer. I know what I didn’t want though. I didn’t want to walk into her office and share the parts of my life I’m inclined to hide. I didn’t want to Facetime her the day after she delivered her baby that never breathed. I didn’t want to spend four months wondering how I’d walk into her house on Christmas day and see her empty chair. I didn’t want to go on another first date that led nowhere. We sit across from each other in a little coffee shop in Colorado, picking at a charcuterie board. “When I think about all of the things I have left to go through,” her voice cracks....
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Back to the bottle.

The room is filled with fifty people or so. It’s a welcome night at my new church.

I sit across from one of the elders. I smile and say all the right things. I want him to know I’m spiritually mature, ready to dive into serving.

I’ve been a Christian for around sixteen years now. Sixteen years of church on Sundays, Bible study, ministry.

But I get her on the phone on a Monday night, “I am having trouble praying.”

She listens.

“See, I used to pray fervently.” I reference my spiritual maturity of the past.

It’s like I’m trying to build a relationship from memories, from my past spiritual “accomplishments”.

As if God approved me based on those.

 So, I get before God while I’m brushing my teeth in front of the bathroom mirror. I get real honest.

I’m an infant. At one time, I was chewing on steak. Now I can only drink milk.

I’ve been counting seasons, expecting that this stage of life is temporary. In the next season, I’ll be back on track.  I’ll see the spiritual fruit in my life. I’ll conquer sin.

I eat birthday cake on a Wednesday. As I watch the sparkler burn out, all I can think is I’ve got just one life to live for Him.

At 24, I’ve “regressed”. It seems I have more sin and more failure in my life than sixteen years ago. My treasure chest full of spirituality is covered in dust.

So, I get before God while I’m driving to work on a Monday. I get real honest.

I’m an infant. My spirituality is dust.

But I’ll take all the milk I can get.

I’ll be grateful for the work I see You doing in my life.

And I’ll stop counting seasons. And start making seasons count.

“For to be sure, he was crucified in weakness, yet he lives by God’s power. Likewise, we are weak in him, yet by God’s power we will live with him in our dealing with you. Examine yourselves to see whether you are in the faith; test yourselves.” 2 Corinthians 13:4-5



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